


Move Your Little Finger, Please

by lessthanpure



Category: Assassins - Sondheim/Weidman
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13695018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessthanpure/pseuds/lessthanpure
Summary: Booth has to convince Oswald alone, without the other assassins' help.





	Move Your Little Finger, Please

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a work by my friend, Penny! She asked me to post it here because she doesn't use AO3 enough to make an account.

Booth thinks to himself. _This will be easy._ Oswald is alone, has given up, has a gun under his chin. Booth leans against the wall and talks. He’s an actor. He talks and talks. But Oswald isn’t listening. Booth frowns. He steps close and curls a hand around Oswald’s shoulder from behind. The man leans into the touch, practically brushing his cheek against the top it it. _Ah._

“You can have a family,” John murmurs in Lee’s ear. Lee turns, tears in his eyes.

“A family?”

“That loves you,” John nods. Lee pauses before he raises shaking hands and puts them to John’s chest. John inhales sharply. Lee shifts his hand so it rests over John’s heart. John’s heart is racing. How he has a heartbeat when he’s dead, he doesn’t know. 

Lee sways towards him. John swallows and cups the back of his head, leading him forward. _This is wrong_. He kisses him. Who started it doesn’t matter. _This is_ right. John backs Lee up until the back of his knees hit a box, and he sits down. John supports himself over him, licking at Lee’s lips. Lee opens to him with a shudder. This is nothing like John’s ever experienced before. Lee is strong under his hands. Lee grips his back, tugging him forward. Lee pulls away, burying the top of his head in John’s chest. 

“Fuck me,” Lee whispers. John starts. _Well, if the curtain rods can turn into a sniper rifle_ , he thinks, and reaches into an inside pocket. There’s a small bottle in there. Lee strips, turning around and bracing himself against the box. 

“No,” John says, and Lee looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Why not?”

“No, not to that,” John says. He turns Lee over so they’re face to face. 

“Johnny?”

The Balladeer called him that. This man, Lee Harvey Oswald; he is the Balladeer. Or was. John exhales as Lee pushes off his jacket and unbuttons his vest. John takes off his shirt and pushes down his pants, stepping out of them. Lee exhales, hand shaking as he wraps a hand around John’s hard cock. John groans. It’s been so long. John knows that they have all the time in the world. Nothing matters outside the book depository. History will wait. Lee Harvey Oswald will fulfill his destiny. But for right now… John backs Lee against the wall next to the window and picks him up. He can hold him. Forever.

John slicks his fingers and presses one into Lee. Lee exhales, tilting his head back. He’s tight and warm around John. He kisses Lee. He stretches him before adding another finger. It’s tighter. Lee bares his teeth, hissing. “Sorry, sorry,” John soothes. 

“It’s been a while,” Lee admits. John blinks. Lee smirks. “I was in the Marines,” he explained. “Not a lot of women.”

John growls. He’s not the first. 

“Easy,” Lee murmurs, stroking at John’s neck. “Just…curl your fingers.” John obeys. “Shift a little up.” He thinks. “Little more.” He gasps. “There!” John presses that spot again, and Lee moans. It’s the best sound John’s ever heard in his life. He licks into Lee’s mouth, wanting to taste it. Lee gasps into his mouth, pulling at his shoulders. “Now, now,” he pleads. John pulls his fingers out and slicks his cock, pressing against him.

“Are you sure,” John asks. 

“Yes.” 

John presses in slowly. He bites Lee’s shoulder, groaning. It’s so tight. Lee is panting against him. “Tell me when,” John whispers. 

Lee nods, stroking over John’s back. His breathing settles. “Now.”

John drags out before pushing back in. He moves his hips on the next stroke, and Lee shouts. _There._ John gets into a rhythm, panting into Lee’s mouth. “Just think,” he says. “Just move your little finger, and we can be together,” he says. 

“P-people will hate me, Johnny,” Lee pants, clenching around him. John moans. 

“People will hate you with a passion,” John agrees. Lee gasps. “Yes, Lee. All those people, a whole country, _the whole world_ , feeling passionate about you. There’s an assassin who will come after you,” he says. “He will have every book ever written about you.” He nails Lee’s prostate, making the man sob.

“Fuck, Johnny. Fine, _fine_. I’ll do it.” He inhales. “Damn you, Booth.”

John thrusts particularly hard and wraps a hand around Lee’s neglected cock, and he comes. John swears and follows. They stand there, panting. Lee’s legs slide from around John’s waist, and he tilts his head back, throat clicking as he swallows. John recovers first, dressing. He straightens his clothes and hands Lee’s to him. “It’s time, Lee.” Lee nods, dressing. He takes the sniper rifle, stroking it for a second. The other assassins come in, standing in a semi circle around him. John strokes Lee’s hair, and Lee puts the stock against his shoulder, lines up, takes a deep breath, and fires.


End file.
